


Pressure 3: Tests

by grey853



Series: Pressure [3]
Category: XF - Fandom
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Male Slash, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-01
Updated: 2013-07-01
Packaged: 2017-12-16 19:35:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/865791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey853/pseuds/grey853
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the third chapter of Pressure, Mulder and Walter deal with some serious physical and emotional issues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pressure 3: Tests

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to XFreak for proofing and being so supportive.

Title: Pressure 3: Tests  
Author: Grey  
Fandom: XF  
Pairing: Mulder/Skinner  
Rating: NC-17  
Status: New/Complete  
Archive: Yes  
Email: [Grey853@aol.com](mailto:Grey853@aol.com)  
Series/Sequel: Third in the Pressure series  
Website: <http://grey.ravenshadow.net>

Notes: Thanks to XFreak for proofing and being so supportive. Any mistakes made afterwards are my own folly. It would help to read parts one and two of the series. 

Disclaimers: Not mine, but someday. 

Summary: In the third chapter of Pressure, Mulder and Walter deal with some serious physical and emotional issues. 

Warnings: RIMMING. If that squicks you, skip to the next section of the story. 

* * *

**Pressure 3: Tests**  
by Grey  
[Grey853@aol.com](mailto:Grey853@aol.com?subject=Tests)

* * *

Mulder kissing his ass anytime made life worthwhile and the heart lighter. Mulder kissing his ass first thing in the morning made Walter Skinner moan for mercy. 

"You like that?" 

"Jesus, don't stop." 

"Bossy even in bed. Say please." 

"Please. God." Quick pants and shudders gripped him, his will power and pride completely surrendered. 

"Begging, sir? Let's get this on camera." A thumb probed deeper, Mulder parting his cheeks, his amused taunt husky and thrilling. He licked and nibbled his thighs before getting back to the serious business of first class rimming. Stubble scratched tender skin as a talented tongue circled and then pushed inside him. His cock hardened even more, the painful ache brother to pleasure, as he stroked himself in time with Mulder's stubborn assault. Muscles tightened, the tense clutch on his bones bending him, bowing his back as he shoved his ass to make more contact. Heat stirred inside him, urgent ripples of flashes taking over muddled brain, straining heart, and every vessel steaming. The roar inside his head expanded, the flame rushing down his spine into his middle, his cock and balls wired to the ecstasy of having Mulder thrust his fingers and tongue so far inside him. 

He couldn't hold on, couldn't contain the coming. Everything blasted through him, the spasms nothing like dying and yet too close to heaven. Strong arms held him until he finally stilled, his wishes answered in the sweaty flesh of the man who loved him, Fox Mulder. 

Before he mustered enough air to say thank you, Mulder kissed his shoulder and whispered, "Be back in a second." 

Air chilled his skin as the younger man rolled out of bed. Running water sounded and only a few minutes later, Mulder returned with a warm cloth to clean him, the tender swipes more gentle than he expected. Still too dreamy to do much more than close his eyes and enjoy it, Walter smiled. "That was beautiful." 

"Yeah? Glad to be of service. Nothing like a good tongue job to jump start the day." The words came out playful, but with a dry, cutting edge so much like Mulder. 

The touches stopped and he rolled over on his back while his lover crawled in next to him, pulling up the comforter to cover them both. His face suddenly broody, he rested his head against Walter's chest and stayed quiet as the left wrist encased in plaster lay across his belly. "You okay, Mulder?" 

"I'm fine." 

"Why don't I believe that?" 

"Because you're a cynic." 

"Look who's talking." 

The slight pause slowed the words, each one too deliberate. "There's nothing wrong. I'm just tired." 

"It's only six in the morning." 

"Well, some of us have been working our asses." 

"And very well, too, thank you." 

"My pleasure." Nuzzling in closer, he sighed, but didn't say anything else. 

He wanted to push harder, but he didn't, not with Mulder's skittish nature. Instead, he tried a different tactic. "You had a couple of nightmares again last night." 

"Nothing new there. Sorry." 

"Nothing to be sorry for. I just thought..." 

"Don't." Mulder's body tensed in his arms, the muscles in his shoulders tight and his jaw clenching. 

"Okay, but if you want to talk about it later, you know where to find me." 

"You worry too much." 

"Yeah, maybe. Comes with the territory." 

"I guess." Mulder took a relaxing deep breath and hugged him as he rubbed his forehead near the center of his chest. "I'll be glad when I can get back out in the field again." 

Petting the damp hair, Walter smiled and spoke teasingly. "So that's it. Too much paper work and not enough action. No aliens to chase makes for a testy Mulder." 

"And makes for a pain in the ass assistant director." He pushed away and sat up, his long legs swinging off the side of the bed. "I need a shower." The words came out strained and angry as he stood up and headed to the bathroom. The door didn't slam, but it didn't close easily either. 

"Damn." Walter ran a hand across his stomach and then used both palms to rub his face, his head suddenly pounding. "What just happened?" 

He got up, still naked, and didn't bother with a robe or knocking as he followed his lover. "Mulder, what's going on?" 

"I'm taking a shower, or I will be as soon as you get the hell out and I can get this fucking cast wrapped up." 

"Here, let me do it." Walter continued to seal the ends of the plastic wrap with rubber bands while Mulder stayed silent. As soon as he finished the job, he patted it. "There. Now what's wrong?" 

The younger man eyes avoided his as he stepped into the shower and pulled the curtain. "Leave it alone, okay? I'll be out in a minute." 

"You know I was just kidding." 

"I know." 

"Then why are you pissed?" 

"It's not you. It's me." 

"What's you?" 

"Forget about it. Now go back to bed or go fix coffee." The taps turned and the spray filled the room with a foggy mist and the rush of running water. 

"Mulder, please tell me." 

"I'm taking a shower. Go away." 

"Tell me." 

"Shit." Sticking his wet head out between the tile and the curtain, Mulder spoke in frustration. "I just want to take a fucking shower. Could you give me some space here?" 

"Feeling crowded?" 

"Claustrophobic." 

His throat tight, Walter nodded. "I'll go make coffee." 

"Good idea. Make it strong, too." 

The curtain closed quickly with the clicking slide over the rod and Walter turned to leave. A quiet voice called out. "I'm sorry, Walter. It's not you." 

"I know that." 

And he did, but it didn't make it any easier as he thought about the fear he'd seen in Mulder's eyes, the faint flicker of desperation as he struggled to work through his own demons, monsters born long ago and still growling stronger than ever. 

* * *

Scully looked up and took off her glasses as she put down the report. "You've been awfully quiet, Mulder. Is something wrong?" 

"Not you, too." 

"Me, too?" 

"I don't want to talk about it." 

"You and Skinner have a fight?" 

Mulder closed his eyes and lowered his face to his palms, his beard burning his hands as he rubbed hard enough to sand away skin. "Not exactly." 

"What exactly?" 

"I don't want to talk about it, Scully." 

"You've said that twice now. Must be something pretty important." 

Meeting her intense blue eyes, he took a deep breath before he whispered. "I think I love him." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah." 

"And that scares the shit out you, huh?" 

"Like you wouldn't believe." 

Instead of smiling or joking, her face softened as she stood up and came to sit in the chair beside his desk. "Oh, I'd believe it. I've seen stranger things." 

Shrugging with the briefest of grins, Mulder leaned back and put his hand to his mouth as he spoke, his eyes no longer watching his partner. "He's just so intense, so sure of what he wants. And..." 

"And what?" 

"And it's hard for me to take sometimes." 

"Because?" 

"Because he won't let me get away with any of my regular bullshit." 

This time she did laugh as she shook her head. "Isn't that part of the attraction? I mean, you knew him before this. You knew he'd be like that." 

"I've always respected him, Scully. He's a good man, but he's going to get hurt. It's almost like I go out of my way to test him." 

"I know all about your tests, Mulder. You're always pushing people away, trying to test their limits." 

"I don't mean to do that." 

"Then don't." 

"It's not that easy. I'm not who he thinks I am." 

Her eyes narrowed and she reached out to take his hand, the heat and the strength of the grip always surprising. "Mulder, he knows exactly who you are, and he's willing to take that chance." 

"But why?" 

"Love maybe?" 

Swallowing hard, his eyes stinging from just the familiar contact and the reality of the word, he bit his lower lip before he finally spoke. "That's what scares me. I'm a wuss when it comes to the L word." 

"Would you rather be lonely?" 

"It's what I'm used to." 

Scully squeezed his hand and stood up before she kissed his temple. "Time for a change, Mulder." 

"You think so?" 

"Yeah, and if you fall on your ass, it won't be the first time." 

"That's comforting." 

"It should be." She spread her arms and motioned to the office around them. "Besides, if all else fails, you've always got me and the X-files." 

A playful swat to the back of his head accented her words as she stepped back to her desk and computer. An anxious sadness washed over him as he realized Scully and his work were no longer enough, no longer his whole life, his single reason for being alive. He needed Walter Skinner and rather than giving him a boost of solace, he shuddered at the powerful truth behind his own need. 

* * *

Too much work, not enough time, too many assholes, not all of them criminals. 

Walter stared at the blurred letters on the page and squeezed his eyes shut several times. The reports and the words all ran together and he had another meeting in just a few minutes. And then there was Mulder. 

His head hurt. Again. Pressure all around, just inside his skull, crushing his clear thinking. Shit. 

Reaching into the lower right hand drawer, Walter pulled out the bottle and worked the safety cap awkwardly. He hated those damn childproof tabs and only after banging it on the table a few times remembered to put the arrows together. Damn simple, really. 

Pouring out three tablets, he reached over to get his empty cup to fetch water. As he stood up, the world tilted and he fell back, his chair shoved several feet from the desk, his pills and mug rolling away. Nausea married the spin and he brought his head forward, the circle of light growing smaller and filling with bright flashes. 

"Sir?" 

He ignored his secretary's concerned voice and concentrated instead on trying to stay conscious. The whole world waffled and he found the edge of the desk solid and yet floating at the same time. Gagging, he opened his eyes long enough to find the trash can. Bile scalded his throat and burned his nostrils as he retched up coffee and what little remained of his last dose of aspirin. His body didn't want to mind him, his limbs and tongue suddenly alien to any function. 

Hands moved him backward, the swarm of voices asking too many questions, using too many jabbering phrases he couldn't decipher. His head roared with the screams of lost friends and soldiers as darkness canceled his vision. 

* * *

Sounds buzzed around him, chatter and moans, beeping and phones ringing. Opening his eyes slowly, Walter saw an unfamiliar lady looking down. Wetting his dry lips, he worked harder than usual to find simple words hiding from his thinking. "Where am I?" 

"Just lie still, Mr. Skinner. I'll get the doctor." 

Doctor? Glancing around, the solids blurred as he lifted his hand to his face. No glasses, but an IV line trailed along his arm. Shit. He remembered. 

"Mr. Skinner, I'm Dr. Henry. How are you feeling?" 

Clearing his throat, he found his voice too rough and raspy. "I had a headache, but I feel better." 

He tried to sit up only to find the doctor holding him back against the flatness of the examining table. It didn't take a lot of effort, the general weakness making his body too heavy and his brain too airy. "Don't move just yet. I don't want you exerting yourself." 

"What happened?" 

"We're not sure yet. Your blood pressure was dangerously high when you arrived, so we treated that first. I've got a message in to your regular physician. We have some of your records, but they don't show any history of high blood pressure." 

"That's only been recent." 

"Are you on any medication for it?" 

"No." 

Henry put the chart on the table and rested his hand on the raised rail. "Well, you most likely will be after we finish running some more tests." 

Dark brown eyes met his and made him uneasy. He hated his own fear, his reluctance to even hear one of the words that Mulder cried out in his sleep so often, a word that chilled him. "What kind of tests?" 

"Nothing too fancy. We've already drawn blood and urine. We want to test your heart and kidney function, but mostly we want to know what's going on in that head of yours. I've scheduled you for some scans later." 

"Later? How much later?" 

"As soon as possible." 

"That soon?" 

"The sooner the better. I don't like it when grown men pass out." 

"Me, either. So, I guess that means I'm staying." 

"At least overnight. We'll have a much better picture of what's going on with you after the test results come back." 

Suddenly too tired to keep his eyes open, Walter nodded the best he could. "And then?" 

"Try to relax. Let's just wait and see what the tests say." 

As the doctor left, he lay there worried about Mulder. He needed to call him, to assure him, but didn't see a phone or his jacket. As he shifted over to try sitting up, Scully walked in followed by her partner, his face too drawn to be pleasant. "Don't even think about it, sir." She turned to Mulder, her hand on his shoulder and spoke with authority. "Stay with him while I go check with his doctor. Don't let him get up. Got that?" 

"Got it." 

Glancing back quickly, she smiled, but her eyes remained deadly serious. "We've got your back, sir. Don't worry. You're going to be fine." 

As she left, Mulder stepped closer, his hands braced against the rail, his eyes too sad to meet longer than a few seconds. "I swear, Walter, if you die on me, I'll never forgive you." 

Swallowing back the choke of words, Walter tried smiling past the fear and fatigue holding his body hostage. "I'll do my best to stay with you, Mulder." 

A hand took his own, the fingers lacing together. Leaning forward, his face a few inches away, his warm breath smelled like coffee. Mulder whispered before he kissed him, his full lips demanding attention. "You better." 

* * *

Dressed in a jeans and a T-shirt, Walter pushed back from his desk to stare out to the balcony, the late sky a dirty grey. A week off, medication, a change in lifestyle to reduce stress, doctor's orders. Yeah, right. Tell that to the bad guys. 

Mulder put down his paper and asked, "You okay?" 

"Yeah. Just thinking." 

"The doctor said no strenuous activity." 

"Funny. How's the arm? The itch any better?" 

"Asshole." Using the eraser end of a pencil, he shoved it down the inside edge of the cast, his face creased with concentration as he worked to stop the torture. "God, this is driving me crazy." 

"Try using the powder." 

"Fuck the powder. What I need is a hacksaw." 

"Or something to take you mind off it." Walter came over to the sofa and settled beside his lover, his arm wrapping around his waist to draw him closer, noting the slight resistance. He stroked the whiskered cheek lightly, scanning the dour face and asked, "What's wrong?" 

"Nothing." 

"Something's eating you. You've been too quiet ever since I got home this morning. I'm going to be fine. I told you what the doctor said." 

"My mom takes Lopressor." 

"A lot of people do, Mulder." 

He started to say something else, but stopped and stood up, his body nearly running in place. "Want anything from the kitchen?" 

"I'm not an invalid." 

"Nobody said you were. I'm just asking. Stop being so fucking surly." 

"I'm not surly. I'm just tired of you acting like I'm going to drop dead any minute." The words stormed out before he could stop them, their impact immediate, Mulder's hurt and his own regret filling the space between them. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that." 

"Sure you did." He ran his hand back through his hair, some of the dark strands still spiking out as he spoke, his voice stretched, but controlled. "I don't mean to obsess on it, Walter, I really don't. It's my problem, not yours. I'm going for a run." 

"Don't leave." 

"I just need to clear my head. I won't be gone long." 

"We need to talk about this." 

"What's there to talk about? You're going to be fine. In my head I know that, but my heart's a stubborn bastard. It just keeps screaming disaster, flashing pictures of you having a stroke just like my mom, or of you dying just like Edward. Like I said, it's my problem." 

"Then it's my problem, too." He reached out his hand as he lowered his voice, his eyes alerted to the rising panic. "Just sit down for a little while. Let me hold you." 

Reluctantly, his eyes still jumpy, Mulder edged in next to him, letting his body press against Walter's. After a few moments, his muscles eased as he slumped in surrender, his arms wrapping around him. "I'm sorry to be such a shit." 

"You're not a shit, at least no more than usual." 

"Thanks." 

"You're welcome." He petted the silky hair, the sensation reminding him of foreign beaches and tropical breezes before a storm. Lured by his own dreams, he closed his eyes, too sleepy to talk much longer. 

"They say having a cat or dog to stroke is good for reducing blood pressure." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah. 

"The lease here won't let me have pets." Groggy and drifting, a light chuckle vibrated his chest. "What?" 

"I'll role play if you will. Should I get a leather collar?" 

"Choke chain might work better." 

"Better than you know." The husky voice surprised him, Mulder's arousal growing as he moved in closer. He raised his head, his eyes dark with hunger. "I need to go running or I'm going to fuck you right now without even asking." Licking the side of his face, he rose only to be pulled back down. 

"No, you don't, Mulder. Just because I'm supposed to take it easy that doesn't mean you have to go around horny." 

"I don't want to risk it." He said the words, but his hand rubbed at his own crotch, the growing bulge begging for attention. 

"I like a good show, too. Unzip and give me twenty." 

Groaning, his cry near plaintive, he complained as he straddled Walter's thigh, his hips moving slowly. "Don't tease me." 

"I'm not teasing. Show me how you do yourself. Take it out and just do it. I want to see you." 

"What about you?" 

"Watching you jerk off will be a test of my will power. Now show me. That's an order." The voice growled out the last words, his own cock aching as he watched Mulder decide in a quick heartbeat to do whatever he told him. The knowledge of that power thrilled him, surged up like a healing water. 

Within seconds, Mulder stood and stripped off, his erection jutting out, surrounded by dark shiny curls, the balls thick and heavy. He sat down facing Walter, his legs spread, his hand pumping as he countered with his own hips. Breathing became pants as he worked harder, his head back, his eyes closed. Sweat dripped from his face as his mouth opened wider, his moans of pleasure building. Whimpers became a precious name, a litany of Walters chanted in the rhythm of his own hand. 

As Walter reached out and touched his leg, Mulder cried out, the spasms jerking his body upward, the coming like a paralyzing possession. The splatters on his chest glistened against the wet hair, a badge of completion in the low light of the room. 

"Oh, Jesus." The groan muffled the words, but the sentiment brought a smile to Walter's face. Hazel eyes opened, not quite focused. "Happy now?" 

"You bet." Stroking the inner thigh, enjoying the shudders, he spoke in a hush. "Better than running any day, huh?" 

"Even better when you can do it for me." Dragging himself upward, oblivious to his sticky condition, Mulder shifted and lay his head in Walter's lap. "I should get a shower." The voice came out sleepy, the words drowsy and slow. 

"You can do that later. How about a nap?" 

"Sounds good." 

Rather than budging, Mulder cuddled in closer, his eyes shut, and his breathing more even. The weight and heat stretched up through his bones, the connection like the first step to recovery for both men. Over time, his hands cradled the back of his lover's head as he studied the resting features, the lean lines of the jaw, the brow finally relaxed in sleep. Fingers combed back the stubborn hair as he wished for peaceful dreams, dreams full of love instead of unending losses. Mulder needed that, needed to share a better vision, a stronger hope for the future. If nothing else, he wanted to give him that, rescue him and save himself in the process. Bowing his head slightly, he prayed for more strength and the faith to expect it. 

* * *

The End


End file.
